Where Ideas Come From

In my nearly 18 years as a newspaper journalist, no one had ever asked me where I got my ideas on stories. Most are obvious, of course, what with crime and council meetings and the like. You covered an event, now it's in the paper – there's no curiosity of where that came about. Even the feature stories that were a little weird or out of the ordinary had their seeds in something else.

So I've been taken aback lately when I've talked to folks who have read my books and stories and I get these questions: “How much of you is in these?” “Who are the characters based on?” “Where do you get your ideas?”

I've read enough to know that many authors find these questions silly, because the answer is so obvious. But I've always sort of believed that the writers who complain about such things had never really been asked these questions – that it was a giant myth perpetuated by literary types to make them seem superior than the rest of us. I knew the answers to those questions – I'd spent my whole life being entertained by my imagination. When I talked to writers, I was most interested in the mechanics of writing. I wanted to learn such things as character development and pacing and plotting and such things about how to do it.

So, I was a bit surprised when I started getting those “silly” questions. My friend Steve Brewer, author of numerous comic mystery novels explained it very well to me why these questions are asked – for many readers it is a way to start a conversation with a writer. Plus, they really are interested in “The Creative Process.” My befuddlement comes from the fact that I don't have a book contract and have never sold a short story to a publication. Granted, I've not tried that hard and years ago when I dipped my toe into the literary waters, I found a bunch of sharks. Mostly, I just want to write and technology has made it relatively easy and cheap to share it with anyone who wants to take a look.

I suppose I don't mind the questions because it requires me to think about what I've done from a different angle. I'm afraid my answers to initial questions may have left some wondering if I actually did write what I was claiming to have written.

My internal voice, which is heavily edited before the words tumble out of my mouth, usually wants to answer the question, “Where do you get your ideas?” with another question, “How do you make them stop?” I don't say that, though, because – to my mind – it seems to sound a little arrogant; like I'm telling someone who was kind enough to not only buy my book, but take the time to read it and think about it that I'm far superior to them.

The truth is, though, that it really is hard to make the ideas stop. I've got notebooks and scraps of paper all over the house full of ideas. On my writing schedule, I've got three novels outlined, a half-dozen short stories to write and one book of columns to edit. The ideas come from everywhere, the key is to always carry a notebook and to always remain open to all the possibilities.

The idea for “Blind Man's Bluff” came about because I was newly married and I couldn't imagine a life without my wife. The key word there is “imagine,” but the loss of a loved one is certainly a universal theme. You can't get to a certain age without someone close to you dying. There was nothing horribly original in my thinking, and there is nothing in this book that probably hasn't been covered for centuries in literature. As a matter of fact, everything written is derivative of something else. What makes literature special is in the telling of the tale.

And what makes a good story? The usual things – antagonist, protagonist, rising action, climax, pacing, and a half-dozen other writerly things. Those are the mechanics I talked about earlier, and most readers don't much notice those things unless it's really good or really bad. These are the tools you use to build a story and you have to spend time learning to use those tools. Although, some writers easily learn to use those literary wrenches and screwdrivers, the rest of us must work at it. (You are kidding yourself if you think good writing is easy to do.)

So where do my characters come from? Are they based on people I know? The quick answer is yes and no. Here's an example of that, a description of Duncan from “Blind Man's Bluff”:

Rand puzzled over his benefactors as they sat staring at him. The girl was pretty, black hair and white skin set off by dark lips. The boy must have been about 20 or a little older, pale and skinny. His hair was perfect, short and just the right amount of mousse to keep any wandering hairs from breaking loose and ruining the effort put into styling it every morning. Rand knew the driver’s type from the marketing firm where he used to work. These young kids with their perfect hair and clothes would come in thinking they should be running the company. When they found out they had to work their way up over time with sweat, they usually quit and went to the next job to do the same thing. They would spend their time writing e-mail to their friends complaining no one understood their genius or gave them a chance on any big project. Every once in awhile one would break through with a good idea and get a lot of attention. But they never knew what to do with the attention and always started ordering the twenty-year guys around.”

Duncan is not one person that I know, but he's got the qualities of many of the frat-guy college students who would populate classes I was taking in college. Like many people my age, I didn't go to college right out of high school. When I finally got around to it at nearly 30 years of age, I found these young kids like Janice and Duncan there. I didn't hate them, but I had long outgrown their youthful dramatics. However, one relevant thing about Duncan is that he is this young guy and he has an ulcer. That was taken from someone I knew who was completely unlike Duncan.

Janice, I'm somewhat sad to say, is essentially an archetype without much depth to her. That's her role in all of this, and sometimes when I read through the work I feel guilty for that. But by the same token this isn't her story.

I've had people ask me if Rand is me. Again, the answer is yes and no. He has many of my qualities, but he takes a path I don't think I would have ever taken. When I started on this, he probably was more like me, but as I went through the process, he began to become his own person.

In my new book, “Time in the World,” there is one major character who is based whole cloth on someone I knew. In the book, J.C. Cummings is the owner of an antique store that never seems to be open. The narrator describes him as such:

Jaspar Cummings was not a tall man and he looked to be about 70 years old. His shoulders were hunched as if his body was well on that march in reverting back to a fetus. Around his neck was a pair of thick eyeglasses that was kept from being misplaced by a black leather lanyard. He wore a maroon cardigan and had his trousers were pulled up to about the middle of his chest. In essence, he was an old man and not long for this earth. My concern was how sharp his mind was. My own grandmother went crazy at about 70 and I knew from experience that older folks didn’t always care to understand the younger generations. It was the first of several times that I underestimated Jaspar Cummings.

As the reader gets to know J.C. they learn he is a somewhat disillusioned idealist, smokes his own hand-rolled cigarettes and has a dry sense of humor. In short, he is my old friend Fred Maio, who died in 1995. He's there for a reason though, and I'll share why.

I met Fred when I was doing community theater in Albuquerque in 1988. I was fresh out of the Air Force and theater gave me an opportunity to be creative and to meet girls. I met Fred when he asked me to run his sound board on a production of “Play it Again, Sam” and, although 25 years older than me, we became friends. Fred had been a staff writer for “Happy Days” and “Laverne and Shirley” as well as working on several other sitcoms in the 1970s. When he had gone out to Hollywood in 1960s, Fred was in a comedy team with Barry Levinson and Craig T. Nelson.

But Hollywood chewed up Fred and spit him out, leaving him angry and addicted to alcohol. He had returned to Albuquerque, where he had grown up, and worked at directing stage plays and getting bit parts in movies and TV shows that filmed in New Mexico. If you have ever seen the movie “City Slickers” with Billy Crystal, Fred played the Spanish doctor at the beginning of the movie that's sewing up Billy Crystal's butt.

Fred in "City Slickers

Fred also had a regular part in the short-lived TV series “Earth 2” and was a featured actor in River Phoenix's last movie, “Silent Tongue,” which also happened to be Fred's last movie.

Fred would encourage me as a writer, but his one piece of advice was to “stay away from Hollywood.” From time to time, though, he would joke with me that one day I would make it big and forget all the people who had helped me out. Then he would make me promise that when I wrote something to make sure there was a part for him to play so he could get work. I've kept that promise. In “Blind Man's Bluff” Fred could have played Rand's father-in-law and in “Time in the World” I gave him a starring role.

So no and yes. Characters, for the most part, are made up within the deep recesses of my imagination. Sometimes, though, they come from real people.